


Wings of Time

by Buckysaur



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Countdown, M/M, Pre-Slash, Soul Bond, Soul mate, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckysaur/pseuds/Buckysaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the numbers on your wrist count down to the moment that you meet your soul mate, Steve Rogers is born, a broken boy out of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wings of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evangel/gifts).



> EDIT OCT 2015: in recent comments I have received criticism for the characterisation in this fic. I briefly considered taking it down, as I definitely agree this is far from my best work, but as there are gif sets of the fic on Tumblr, I decided against it. 
> 
> Thus, PSA: This fic has flaws, I know they are there. I am not going to fix them.
> 
> **
> 
> A while back there was a post circulating on Tumblr about this idea, (“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”) and a lot of people reblogged it with mini-fics. I was reminded of that post today, and suddenly thought of Steve, a man out of time.  
> I adapted the idea slightly so that everyone is born with such a clock.

**34,604 days – 16 hours – 5 minutes – 28 seconds**

Steve Rogers is born as a tiny boy in a tiny house in a tiny street in the biggest city of the world, and immediately it is decided for him that he is broken. Not only is he quiet, merely staring at the ceiling in a bright-blue-eyed daze of complicated wonder, as if he already realises that there is a time to cry and it is not now, and that he should treasure every moment of his life that he doesn’t necessarily have to spend crying.

He is given up for adoption the same exact day, his mother pulling her hands back in fear when her eyes fall on the black numbers on his tiny wrist, looping around as much as five times to show just how broken his heart will be.

He is broken, is decided, broken beyond repair, and no one wants a broken toy, a broken boy like him. His mother hands him over without crying, her eyes hard and her mouth thin line – she has no son.

 

**31,001 days – 2 hours – 36 minutes – 41 seconds**

They never let him wear shirts with short sleeves, and Steve doesn’t understand why. He’s asked, asked why he can never show his wrists, because he doesn’t have the scars that Lizzie has, and he doesn’t have red spots on his skin like Andy. But the sisters at the orphanage only shake their heads, telling him to hide the letters, because there is something wrong with him, that he can’t yet understand, because he is too young and too naive, too weak and sick and that is why he has no friends, and that is why Luke avoids him.

 

**30,931 days – 23 hours – 18 minutes – 30 seconds**

Steve spends a lot of time just looking at the letters, the black letters burned into his skin, some of which ever changing, others only shifting once a year. He’s learned not to ask questions by now, questions are unheard of, but he’s starting to understand how they work, starting to recognise the numbers he’s been trying to learn at school, but can’t quite grasp because they often swim across his vision, twisting and turning and dancing around. Not the ones on his skin though, they are the only ones that stay, the ones he can always rely on to be there.

 

**30,689 days – 11 hours – 7 minutes – 2 seconds**

Steve has been eavesdropping on the other kids, looking at their wrists whenever he gets the chance. None of them have four swirls, four rows of numbers down their arms, and Steve is starting to realise that his numbers are the reason, the reason for everything. The reason why he’s broken and hated, and why they sometimes hesitate to touch him, why he knows he’s not getting as much food, and why the teachers let him sit to the side at P.E., because he is broken, and he can’t even run.

**30,212 days – 8 hours – 24 minutes – 56 seconds**

The running is perhaps the worst thing, because there is no way out for him. He cannot flee, he cannot go away. Can’t even run after his ball before it bounces across the street and is stolen by the neighbourhood kids, who skip away laughing and pointing at him.

**30,003 days – 15 hours – 52 minutes – 47 seconds**

In the end, it is Lizzie who pulls him aside at lunch, and in hushed tones tells him what the numbers mean. She tells him that he can’t tell that she told him, and that the sisters would spank her if they knew, because there is something wrong with Steve’s numbers, and he is not supposed to know.

It is then that he looks at them in a new light, and steals a pencil from his teacher, and a notebook from Mark. He writes down his calculations, as best as he can, remembering that a year has 365 days, but sometimes 364, and that a day is 24 hours, and that an hour is 60 minutes, and a minute 60 seconds. The number is too big, and his conclusion is _‘too long’_.

 

**27,015 days – 20 hours – 1 minute – 19 seconds**

War breaks out, and Steve forgets about the numbers. He’s learned by now, what they indicate, and with the oncoming storm of anger and destruction, he knows that he’ll never live to be that old. Steve is a person with nothing to gain, and thus nothing to lose, so he joins at the back of the queue, lining up to be a soldier, and to be of use at last.

 

**26,014 days – 4 hours – 23 minutes – 47 seconds**

Steve is now sure that he will never be of use.

 

**25,581 days – 17 hours – 14 minutes – 8 seconds**

The day that he meets Peggy Carter is, for him, a special day, and he even takes a moment to glance at her wrist, to see if perhaps her clock is also broken, or just ticking down to zero, when she finally meets him.

It is not. Steve sighs and moves on.

That day he throws himself onto a grenade, and he doesn’t die. Not yet.

**25,498 days – 2 hours – 50 minutes – 3 seconds**

As it turns out Steve is too broken to die.

 

**4 days – 14 hours – 11 minutes – 53 seconds**

Steve wakes up.

Just two lines are circling around his wrist, and he looks at them in wonder and bliss, after which he crashes through a wall and out onto a street, just to confirm what he already knows. Calculations whir around in his head. 2000? 2010? He looks at a bright wall made of light, and sees 2012.

Four days. Four days.

Maybe he is not broken.

 

**1 day – 10 hours – 39 minutes – 12 seconds**

There is something strangely disconcerting about suddenly having a reason to live. Not that Steve hadn’t had one before, but it had never been so present. He’d had Peggy, of course, but she had her own soul mate waiting for her. He’d never expected to have anyone.

And now he is one day and a half away from meeting that person, and Steve is not ready.

He’s sitting on the floor in his room, with his back against his bed, wheezing and shaking, with his fingers clutching to his sides as he’s bent over, curled up into a ball of fear.

His whole life, he’d been prepared to die without knowing, he’d been prepared to be alone, never waiting, never stopping to _think_. Because why should he ponder over what he would say when he met his soul mate, like all the girls in the orphanage had? He’d been so sure he’d never need such words anyway.

As it turns out, he does.  And he’s not ready.

A faint knock on the door, and Agent Maria Hill’s voice sounds through the wood. “Captain, can I come in?” She asks, her voice light as ever.

Steve scrambles to his feet, wiping his eyes and bending over to the tiny mirror on his dresser to see if he looks even remotely presentable – he doesn’t. He swallows, and walks to the door, opening it just a bit, peering at her through the crack. “Can I help with something?” He asks.

Maria shakes her head, “No, I just came to give you some more files. Fury wanted to brief you on some more things before you take off to the helicarrier tomorrow.”

Steve nods, and opens the door a bit more. If Maria is surprised to see him in the state he is in, she does a remarkable job at not showing it. “Thank you, Agent Hill.” He says, holding the file to his chest.

“Maria, and you’re welcome Captain.” She replies, smiling back at him, nodding once before she leaves.

 

**0 days – 1 hour – 14 minutes – 58 seconds**

They found Loki, and Steve is on his way, anxiously counting down the minutes. He is afraid that he might miss his soul mate in the chaos. Perhaps just a woman in a crowd passing by, and the fear of it grips his heart and his teeth dig into his lower lip. He can’t miss her. He _can’t_. Not after 34,604 days of waiting.

He has to know who it is.

 

**0 days – 0 hours – 2 minutes – 3 seconds**

Steve is thrown into the air, and hits the floor, hard, rolling over a few times before he’s able to get up again. Lying on the stones, and just before he jumps up to attack Loki again, he slides his glove to the side, checking the time. _His_ time.

 

**0 days – 0 hours – 1 minute – 28 seconds**

He jumps to his feet, swings his shield at Loki, and jumps after it, punching and kicking and dodging Loki’s blows, counting the seconds in his head. _When. Who._ _And why will they be here?_

Loki throws him to the ground again, and then presses the back of his sceptre against Steve’s head.

“Kneel.” He says in his icy voice.

Steve grits his teeth, and grabs the sceptre, pulling it away. He jumps to his feet, kicking Loki in his chest, knocking him back. “Not today!” He shouts, because today is special. Today is _his_ day.

 

**0 days – 0 hours – 0 minutes – 51 seconds**

Steve lands a punch on Loki’s jaw, but is caught by his arm, and Loki slings him through the air. Steve falls to the floor several metres later, rolling over a few times, and gritting his teeth in pain. This would really be a good time for his soul mate to show up and save him, he thinks bitterly, and he hopes that he’s not broken. He hopes that his clock actually means something. Someone. He hopes that someone will come for him, because he’s so tired of fighting alone. His whole life, he’s fought alone. _No more,_ He thinks, _I don’t want to be alone anymore._

_\--ready gonna fire at will!  
Cause I shoot to thrill and I'm ready to kill!_

Steve rolls over, squinting up at the sky in confusion, just in time to see a comet— no! A man. A man in an iron suit. With wide eyes, he watches as Iron Man shoots a blast of light at Loki, and then lands on the ground in front of him.

_I can't get enough and I can't get my fill!_

  **0 days – 0 hours – 0 minutes – 0 seconds**

_Cause I shoot to thrill!_

Steve slowly gets up, the movement almost mechanical. So this is it. _This is it_.

Iron Man points his weapons at Loki. “Make your move, Reindeer games.”

Perhaps Steve won’t have to fight alone any more.

He walks up to the man, heaving his shield back onto his arm as he moves. It is strange, for most of his life he’d never thought this moment would come, and then for the past five days he’d been living _for_ it. And now... he’d expected to feel empty, finally relieved of his 90 years of waiting, stripped of what was, perhaps, his purpose, but he doesn’t. He watches Loki light up and then his weapons disappear.

“Good move.” Iron Man says, and Steve breathes heavily, finally realising that it’s all over. He wonders if the other knows.

“Mr. Stark.” He says, not capable of any other greeting. This is it. The defining moment of his life.

“Captain.”

He’s home. He’s finally home.

 


	2. Sting of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only mostly finished Sequel to Wings of Time. Ending is missing, derp.
> 
> Tony's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time I started writing this sequel to Wings of Time. Then I realised I would never finish it. For those interested in the first half: Tada!
> 
> Should anyone want to adopt and finish this fic, be my guest!

_In a world where the numbers on your wrist count down to the moment that you meet your soul mate, Tony Stark is born, and he decides to hate his soul mate._

The Sting of Time

**  
15,340 days – 3 hours – 56 minutes – 19 seconds**

The words go unsaid by his parents even as they give each other the look of mutual understanding that says they both know. It’s something that all parents have to deal with, because even when they don’t  _want_  to know, they know they can’t stop it. No matter how much it will hurt, it is the burden of a parent to know how long their child will have to struggle through loneliness before finally meeting who they are destined to be with.

For Tony Stark, this struggle will last a little over 42 years.

**11,292 days – 8 hours – 12 minutes – 43 seconds**

It’s an odd kind of loneliness; the loneliness of someone who is waiting, but has such an awfully long time to wait. Tony knows that the average time on the clock on a newborn baby’s arm is 7285 days, or 20 years. Tony was born with more than twice that, and it’s unsettling.

He hates it; the loneliness, the sting of not having that one special person that he needs so much in his life.

His mother often encourages him to make friends, but Tony finds that to be very hard to do. He knows that none of the people he will meet in the upcoming 31 years will be his soul mate, so why bother?

None of them really care about him anyway.

 

**10,564 days – 15 hours – 39 minutes – 11 seconds**

Tony hates his soul mate. When he tells Jarvis, the butler throws him a look of pity, but Tony doesn’t want to be pitied. He wants to understand why his father won’t spend time with him, and why even his mother is always too busy to talk to him lately.

He wants to know why, when he is always so alone, he has to be the one to wait for 42 years.

He wants to know what kind of cruel person his soul mate is that they leave him to be alone for such a long time.

 

**9,106 days – 9 hours – 21 minutes – 40 seconds**

Tony is tired of waiting, so he starts to build himself some friends.

 

**8,742 days – 23 hours – 4 minutes – 27 seconds**

As it turns out, friends can be built, but soul mates cannot.

 

**8,378 days – 10 hours – 17 minutes – 3 seconds**

Tony is still alone.

 

**8,014 days – 8 hours – 50 minutes – 18 seconds**

Tony is still alone.

 

**7,649 days – 21 hours – 45 minutes – 32 seconds**

Tony is still alone.

 

**7,285 days – 13 hours – 1 minute – 44 seconds**

Tony stops counting down the days.

**4,735 days – 2 hours – 38 minutes – 19 seconds**

 

**4,621 days – 19 hours – 24 minutes – 35 seconds**

Tony gives up on his soul mate. Pepper’s soul mate is a long way away too.

 

**1,821 days – 1 hour – 7 minutes – 59 seconds**

Tony has Pepper now. Yet he is still alone.

Five more years.

 

**1,457 days – 2 hours – 38 minutes – 13 seconds**

Apparently Tony has a heart.

He tries not to think about how his soul mate will capture it, because he doesn’t want his soul mate any more. His soul mate has left him alone for this long, broke his heart before they even met. Tony doesn’t want his soul mate – at least that’s what he tells himself.

He wonders what his soul mate is like.

 

**0 days – 0 hours – 08 minutes – 09 seconds**

It is by accident that Tony suddenly remembers. He’d forgotten, the memory lost in denial and unease, and chased away by otherworldly worries – quite literally, this time.

The timer shows him eight minute exactly when he looks, and his heart makes a strange twist in his chest as he soars trough the sky on his way to Stuttgart.


End file.
